One Grave Less

by Beverly Connor

  “I heard you are canceling your wedding,” Gregory said.

  “I told Frank I’d wait to make a decision and we would talk. But you’ve seen firsthand what I bring to the marriage.”

  “You’re telling me you invited those maniacs? That seems unlike you,” he said. He went back to looking at his postcards. “I read where paintings of milkmaids in their day were considered sexual. I have to say, I see a serene woman pouring milk. I’m afraid I would make a terrible art critic. I don’t seem to have the knack for all the underlying symbolism that other people see.”

  “I might as well have invited them,” said Diane. “They were after me.”

  “Seems as though you will have to quit working here too,” he said. “Wouldn’t do to expose the museum visitors to deadly criminals.”

  “Frank went through all that—Am I going to move to a deserted island to live out my days, etcetera,” she said.

  “He has a point,” Gregory said, looking at The Girl with a Wine Glass. “Now, she looks like she is about to make some poor decisions. You could, of course, join your CIA or some such group where your ability to draw out bad guys would be welcome.”

  Diane smiled. “That’s a thought. The problem is, I love my life here. I love Frank. I just don’t want to see him or Star hurt.”

  “None of us like to see the people we love hurt.” He put the postcards back in his jacket pocket. “What is so odd about this is it shouldn’t be happening. You should be safe here in your museum—safe even in your crime lab, with its connection to criminals and their doings. I haven’t been able to get a handle on this. I realize now that there was some criminal activity going on at the mission in Brazil that I missed utterly and completely. I’ve accepted that. I believe you are right, that it had to do with smuggling endangered animals and their various parts and selling humans into slavery. But I have no idea who was behind it. I’m completely stumped. Simone must have found more damning evidence than the bag of feathers and bones to have generated this kind of extreme response. I’ve made calls to some environmental policing groups, trying to get a handle on who’s who in that world. No luck so far. Just a lot of information about things we already know, such as how lucrative it is. They gave me a few names, but I didn’t know any of them. David asked for the names so I gave them to him.”

  “I’m going to contact my post office and see if perhaps they lost a package that was supposed to come to me.” Diane shrugged. “David suggested that perhaps Simone set up several post office boxes and has the package being forwarded from post office to post office—letting the U.S. Postal Service keep it in their custody for a while. That’s the kind of thing he might do.”

  “That could be it. She also could have left it with a lawyer to be forwarded to you or to the authorities in the event of her death. Unfortunately, she appears not to have made provisions for a coma,” said Gregory.

  “I don’t suppose Simone’s family received anything,” said Diane. “Would any of them have told you?”

  “The brother or father, perhaps,” Gregory said. “But I don’t think Simone would really trust any of them with something like that. Crime is an alien thing to her family. They are perplexed and out of their ken over this.”

  “Whoever is behind it believes the package exists. I have to believe they are right,” said Diane. “It’s somewhere, and we need to find it—first. If it is making its rounds in the postal system, perhaps that will come to an end soon and it will be delivered to me. Perhaps Charlotte will find something soon. I’m sure that’s why David wanted the names of known animal traffickers.”

  “Charlotte? I don’t believe I’ve met her,” Gregory said.

  Diane looked over at him. “David is probably going to introduce you today. He said he’s going to tell you about her. But it is a secret. Only a few of us know about her and her brother. So you must keep it a secret. He’ll make you swear in blood.”

  Gregory gave a little laugh. “I’ll keep mum. Tell me, who is this Charlotte and her brother?”

  “Charlotte and Arachnid are two of David’s programs that rely heavily on databases and complex algorithms,” said Diane.

  “Now, I could have guessed that,” said Gregory.

  “Arachnid is a program that’s like a search engine and facial recognition software combined. We used it to find information about a black widow murderer a while back. Worked quite well. You’ll love Charlotte. She’s like the network analysis you do, only with the power of a computer behind it. It not only places people in a social network, it locates degrees of separation. Like, if I know Vanessa and she has a son, and you know your father-in-law and he has a cousin, it might find if Vanessa’s son and the cousin have ever crossed paths in whatever location we are investigating. The power of it is in access to databases. David even takes it down to the level of hobbies and habits of the people in the network. You know David, if something is complex, it can always be made more complex. That’s probably why he covets a supercomputer. Can you imagine a world with David and a supercomputer?”

  “For someone who is afraid of Big Brother, he certainly likes to invent Big Brother programs,” said Gregory.

  “The irony isn’t lost on him. That’s why he keeps it all a secret. He doesn’t want anyone else to get their hands on it,” said Diane.

  “So if the names of these animal and human traffickers I gave David have crossed paths with any of us, this Charlotte will find it? That will be helpful. That actually makes me feel better.”

  “Remember, David likes to keep his programs secret,” said Diane.

  Gregory smiled and shook his head. “I wonder if he has thought of tapping into some of the social networking sites. He would get a wealth of information there. Seems like Charlotte and her brother could be put to effective use,” said Gregory. “I can see it now. Jane and Jack Smith on a family vacation just happen to take a picture with Notorious Joe in the background and post it with their vacation photos on their Web site, where Arachnid finds it and discovers that Joe was in the Bahamas when he said he was in Alaska. Cool.”

  Diane laughed. “I’m sure David has thought about that very thing. Sometimes I don’t inquire into too much detail about his computer activities.”

  Neva, one of Diane’s crime scene team members, walked into the Pleistocene Room, smiling. She wore jeans and a purple museum T-shirt with GEOLOGY ROCKS printed across the front along with a glittering picture of amethysts.

  “You look happy,” said Diane.

  Neva sat on the bench with them. She brushed her honey brown bangs back with a hand.

  “How are you, Neva?” said Gregory. “You do look happy.”

  “I’m good. I heard from Mike. He’ll be coming home soon. Has some great stuff for the museum.” She grinned.

  “I hear ‘more to the story’ in there,” said Diane.

  “His company told him they were going to an ice cave. That was just a cover because they wanted to keep the real destination a secret—you’re going to hate it,” said Neva.

  “What?” said Diane.

  “He went to the Big Deep,” she said. “They collected truckloads of extremophiles. He said it’s loaded with them.”

  “What?” said Diane, glaring at Neva.

  Neva grinned. “He said you’d look like that.”

  “He didn’t insist that he would go only if he could bring his museum boss and caving partner?” said Diane.

  “Mike said you’d say that,” Neva said.

  “What’s this Big Deep?” said Gregory.

  “The deepest cave in the world,” said Diane. “It’s about eight thousand feet deep.”

  “Good heavens,” said Gregory. “It sounds treacherous. And you would find that relaxing?”

  “It is and I do,” said Diane. “Wow. Wow. He got pictures, I hope. The rat,” she added.

  “Loads of pictures,” said Neva. “All the cavers had really great cameras on their helmets and, of course, they had their official photographer. Mike has all t
hese ideas for an exhibit.”

  “I can’t wait.” A wave of regret washed over Diane. What if she weren’t working at the museum then? What if she were banished to some deserted island? God, she loved her job.

  “So tell me, Neva,” said Gregory. “You cave too. Do you find it relaxing?”

  Neva shook her head. “Diane goes for the calm of it. I go for the excitement. My heart beats too fast in a cave for it to be relaxing.”

  “You and Mike are an item, is that right?” asked Gregory.

  Neva nodded. “I suppose. I’d marry him in a minute if he would ask.”

  “Don’t girls ask these days?” said Gregory.

  “I’d be too afraid of a ‘no,’” said Neva. She sighed. “Mike is way more educated than I am.”

  “Really?” said Gregory. “Talking to you, you sound very educated.”

  “Working where I do, I can’t help but pick up all kinds of knowledge about a lot of things, but . . .” She shrugged.

  “It appears to me that you are selling yourself quite short,” said Gregory. “Education is more than a piece of paper with special letters on it. It’s the content of your mind and your awareness of it. You have all that.”

  “You are such a nice man,” said Neva. “No wonder your wife is crazy about you.”

  “Is she really? I’m glad to hear it. It’s hard to tell with Marguerite sometimes.” Gregory smiled at Neva.

  Diane was staring at the bones of the wooly mammoth as Neva and Gregory spoke, remembering Milo Lorenzo, the man whose dream was behind the museum, the love of Vanessa Van Ross’s life, and the man who hired Diane as assistant director. It was here he had a heart attack and died. He was much younger than Vanessa and it was a shock and a tragedy.

  “Neva, you are an artist,” Diane said, still staring at the mammoth.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Do you ever do drawings of Mike?” she asked.

  “Are you kidding? All the time. I’m working on a series from the cave photographs we have. You know that one where we just came out of that cave and we were so tired, he’d taken his shirt off and was taking a drink of water? I’m doing a painting of it. I think it’s going to be one of my best.”

  Neva took her cell phone off the loop of her belt and called up her photos. “Here is a head study I did of him.”

  Neva handed it to Diane and she and Gregory looked at the pencil drawing of Mike’s face. She had caught him well, the planes and angles of his handsome face, the intense expression he often had, but with a spark of humor that you could see mostly in his eyes.

  “My dear, you are quite good. Do you do commissions?” Gregory said.

  “Whenever I can get them,” said Neva.

  “I have this favorite photograph of Marguerite that I’d love for you to do.”

  Neva nodded and grinned. “Sure.”

  “Neva,” said Diane, “would Madge draw someone she was in love with, even if it was unrequited?”

  Neva’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, she would, she sure would. I would. I do. Damn, I didn’t think of that. She should have lots of drawings of him, if there is a him. If you like to draw, and she did, you just can’t help yourself.”

  “Could you recognize drawings of someone that the artist was in love with as opposed to, say, a commission she may have been doing?” asked Diane.

  “That’s a good question. Hmmm. At my house it would be the sheer quantity of drawings of Mike. Except that I also have lots of Jin, David, you, Andie. I like to draw. And that’s an element too. You fall in love with whatever you’re working on at the moment. But can you tell if it is someone you’re in love with? I don’t know. What did you see in that photograph of the drawing I did of Mike?”

  “I saw Mike,” said Diane. “Him and his personality. I saw who he is. Maybe that’s it.” Diane shrugged and looked at Gregory.

  “I was reminded of this photograph I love of my wife. Not that she looks like this bloke, Mike, but I suppose I must have seen the love. Interesting. I’ll have to go back and look at my Vermeers with that in mind. It puts art in a whole new perspective.”

  “Neva, if I call Vanessa and the two of you can get access to Madge’s home and her workspace,” said Diane, “can you go through her drawings and paintings and see if there is someone who was special to her? It may be a person of interest we need to talk to.”

  Chapter 63

  Andie caught Diane midstride as she was leaving the Pleistocene Room heading for the basement.

  “There’s a storm coming,” said Andie.

  “Looks like it,” said Diane. “The wind is really whipping the trees back and forth out there.”

  For the middle of the day, it was looking dark.

  “You look a little anxious,” said Diane. “Is everything all right?”

  “I just wanted to run some things by you,” said Andie.

  “All right,” said Diane. She led Andie to one of the benches and they sat down.

  “We’ve been having some cancellations because of the weather forecast—a lot of them,” said Andie. “Some are rescheduling for later, like next month, but some aren’t.”

  “Cancellations in bad weather are expected. We’ve had them before,” said Diane.

  Andie nodded. “I know. It’s just . . . cancellations on my watch are a little scary. And some of the staff—not many, but a few—wanted to know if they could bring their families and sleeping bags and sleep in the basement tonight if the weather turns really bad. It’s a little unusual, I know, but I told them they could. I was thinking they can set up in that big room that’s finished but not decorated. The bathrooms nearby are finished, and that seems like a good camping place.” Andie stopped and took a breath. “Is that all right? I mean, in an emergency? But then I got to thinking about insurance, and now I’m not so sure. But then, I can’t turn people away.”

  “I think, for a few people who have nowhere else to go, that’s fine. You’re right. We can’t turn our staff and their families away in an emergency. Is the weather supposed to get that bad? I haven’t been listening to the news.”

  “You know how weather reports are. They like drama. But all week we are supposed to have lots of rain, lightning, tree-uprooting wind, and possible tornados,” said Andie. “Then again, maybe it’s just drama.”

  Diane raised her brow. “I didn’t know. By all means, they need a place to come. The basement is a good idea. We’ll need to try to control the level of kid activity.”

  “I sent Ami to the museum store for some games and toys. I thought it would be a good idea to have something to do. We can lock all the exhibit rooms, of course,” said Andie.

  “Sounds like you have things under control,” said Diane. “You are in charge, remember.”

  “Yeah, of the museum, but you are still the primate curator,” she said.

  Diane frowned. “Is there an issue with the primate exhibit?”

  “Sort of . . . ,” she said.

  “Is Kendel back yet?” asked Diane.

  “That’s the thing. Kendel is still in Mexico. She thinks she can get them to go ahead and loan us the Mayan exhibit. But the price is, they want a loan of our”—Andie made a face—“our primate exhibit—the new resin figures in their habitats. Kendel said she wouldn’t normally think of it, but it would go a long way toward fixing the little PR blip we suffered. And it will look really good in their advertising to see ‘Mexico Special Primate Exhibit On Loan From RiverTrail. ’ Lots of coverage. Their museum is way bigger than ours and has more visitors from all over the world.”

  Diane nodded. “It’s a good point. All right. We need to have something to replace it with that’s a little different. I’ll work on an idea and we’ll get the planners on it.” She smiled at Andie. “How do you like being director?”

  “How do you know if you’re making the right decisions?” said Andie.

  “Sometimes you don’t,” said Diane. “You make the best decision with what you know, keeping the goals of the museum
in mind. And always keeping in mind the possible consequences of your decisions.” Diane smiled. “Sometimes you just call it like you see it.”

  “It’s those consequences that are the little devils,” said Andie.

  “You’re doing fine,” Diane said.

  “Are you all right?” asked Andie. “A lot’s happened to you.”

  “Pretty good, considering,” Diane said. “Liam was terrific.”

  Andie grinned. “I was scared to death when he told me to get to the police station and tell them to go check on Frank’s house and he was going back to help you out. I had no idea how in the world he got all that information out of that short interaction on the steps. I just thought you were stressed out about the Mayan exhibit and the rumors and stuff, and I thought some big hefty-looking security guards were a good thing.”

  “Obviously Liam is very experienced and a good detective. I was in serious trouble. I’m very appreciative of his help, and yours,” said Diane. “You are doing a great job, Andie. Hopefully this mess I fell into will be resolved soon. And if you would like to stay in the museum tonight, you know the couch in my office makes into a bed.”

  “Thanks. What about you?” said Andie.

  “I’ve got one of the new mini bedrooms in the basement near the media-meeting room,” she said. “It’s all very nice.”

  Andie stood. “Thanks. I’ve been terrified I’ll screw up the museum,” she said.

  “That would really be hard to do, so don’t worry,” she said.

  Andie went back to the office and Diane started for the stairs to go down to the basement with the others. She looked up and saw Lynn Webber, the medical examiner, walking through the front doors dragging a huge canvas case behind her, her patent-leather heels clicking on the granite floors.

  “Lynn?” said Diane.

  “I hope you don’t mind. You’ve seen my little apartment, all that glass, and high up near lots of trees. Can I stay here until the storms pass?” she asked.

  “We have some mini bedrooms in the basement . . . ,” began Diane.

  “Got it covered,” said Lynn. “This is my get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge bag. My family think I’m nuts to have gotten something like this, especially when I told them how much it cost. Every time I talk with my brother or my dad, they say, ‘Well, have you used that get-outta-town white elephant yet?’ Well, this is my chance. We are in for some seriously bad weather and I can’t stay in my apartment. I’ll pitch my tent in your basement, if that’s all right.”